Cell Abuse

One of those crazy cell phones got to me when riding the train from Seattle the other day. I am an observer of people first and foremost and because I have never had a cell phone never want one and when I die will have inscribed on my tombstone, "He never had a cell phone", I can quickly distinguish between the cell addicts and the normal users (too few of those).
The addicts have a look in their eyes that announces the anticipation of the next cell ring, they fidget nervously when not on their phone. They have a blank stare that proscribes their cell damaged brains....Haha You have to be a non user to see those things in the cell addict. But like a person who never wears a watch ( I never do that as well) and as a result learns to know the time more accurately than those who have timne devices with them, a non cell user better sees the cell addict.
The lady I was annoyed by, or rather annoyed by her rudeness in use of her phone, on the train ride was a model for cell addiction. Because the train policy is for no cell talking in the rider carriage, she spent at least three of the three and one half hours (the other half hour was bathroom and dining time..she almost never sat in her seat) on the boarding entrance at the back of the compartment. And she chattered loudly while gabbing on her phone the whole time (Why do cell addicts scream into their phone?).
Since I sat immediately adjacent to where she used her phone I was "treated' to a train ride of her inane cell chat. None of her calls had any importance beyond entertaining herself (the other parties have to be idiots or have nothing productive to do with their time to enjoy listening to her drivel). The cell addict often does nothing in free time but chat on a phone because he or she has become hypnotized by it to do so.
I held my tongue and did not tell her what I felt, that she was rude to impose her addiction on we passengers, because it is the conductor's job to remind unruly riders to be considerate. When one of the conductors eventually asked her, "What are you doing"?, figuring she would understand that she was out of line to annoy other passengers, she merely barked at him. "What does it look like. I am talking on my phone." Subtle reminders to behave rarely impact cell addicts because they are blinded by their addiction to believe their "right" to chat anywhere and at any volume is an inalienable one.
I survived it all but wonder why I should be forced to endure such such bad behavior. Like cigarette smoke blown in one's face, society is now too often assaulted by the arrows of words cell addicts hurl blindly as they inject their brains with their cells and innocent bystanders with their cackling. Is not a cell phone abuser also a reminder to you that the world today is no longer a private place? We are surrounded by technology that tracks our presence, intrudes on our privacy, alters our sanity (Maybe that's why I am nuts?), records our appointments and purchases.......ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh You know it already! We can no longer pull the plug and are trapped by the scourge of civilization that is the cell phone addict.
How sad that the cell phone has changed the way we communicate, from that in which two people communicate out of need or desire to today's mindless and endless chatter about "nothing". I wonder what kind of life that cell addict on the train has? Whether happy or sad, she surely is not in control of it because her phone rules her and abuses all within hearing distance. Post cell phone life is a regulated one that has degraded society. It does not allow us to have a solitary life and robs us so much of civility. It prohibits us from being anonymous because now anyone can now find us even when we wish not to be "in touch". It interferes with our thinking and replaces it with mindless chat, and it promotes the end of public politeness by making public space personal private domains.
Sigh...I should have that tombstone inscription I ordered chiseled in big bold letters.....